


"Owie, Da?"

by notjustmom



Series: Box of 64 [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 06:34:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10354281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: Sherlock comes back from a case injured slightly. Rosie is 5ish.





	

Lestrade deposited the detective on the couch and sheepishly met John's glare.

"He waited for us, he did, he uhm, just got a bit carried away with his -"

John rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Deductions?"

The lump on the couch groaned as he sat up, holding his ribs. "It's been a while, and I - he was -" he sighed and looked up at John, then crumpled back into the pillows. "I was stupid. Sorry."

"I think he's just bruised, nothing broken, he's just going to be a royal -" Lestrade started, then gave up and made for the door.

"Pain in the arse?" John muttered as he quietly stomped into the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit, hoping Rosie wouldn't wake up. It had taken him hours to get her down, four chapters of The Princess Bride, two cups of milk and one and a half stories about 'Da's work' before she finally passed out.

John returned to the couch, only to find Sherlock dead to the world. "Sherlock? Love, come on, up you get, it's going to hurt worse tomorrow if you don't get a good soak tonight. Love?"

Sherlock grumbled, "just a few more minutes, please? Just let me not move for just a couple more minutes?"

Rosie entered then, clutching Teddy, and rubbing her eyes. She looked at John, then Sherlock and wandered over to the couch. "Owie, Da?" She asked softly as she patted his head.

Sherlock opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Yeah, a little bit of an owie, Rosie, because your Da doesn't always know when to stop talking." He sat up carefully and pushed off of John's shoulder, and began to limp slowly to the bathroom.

"Da, you can use my bubbles and ducks, they always make me feel better, when I get an owie."

Sherlock stopped and turned back; Rosie stood in front of him, yawning but still smiling at him. He bent down gingerly and kissed her soft curls. "Thank you, Rosie, I'll try to be more careful next time, yeah?"

"Okay, Da. Night, night." She kissed his cheek, then made her way back to bed.


End file.
